


The Spare

by NegansOtherWife



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Outdoor Sex, Quickies, Rough Sex, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 22:36:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegansOtherWife/pseuds/NegansOtherWife
Summary: A flat tire calls for a lesson in self esteem— curtesy of Negan, with a slight hands on approach.





	The Spare

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here's my attempt at bettering my smut scenes. :)

“You’re fucking shitting me, Dwight,” I watched anxiously as an angry Negan continued to berate Dwight over the flat tire we’d gotten on the way back to camp— and well, the lack of a spare. 

We’d been the last one’s in the car line, and Dwight— ever the smart one— had hit a pothole in the road. The others, unbeknown had left us behind.

“Well, you better hope and fucking pray, that the others aren’t too far up the road.” Dwight—  obviously not wanting to further invoke Negan’s rage, motioned for us to get going. I stood up in the bed of the truck to follow. 

Negan tutted angrily.  

“I don't think so, fucker,” He motioned between the two of us with Lucille, and we both flinched. “You're going by yourself, and you _better_ make it back before Lucille starts swinging.”

Dwight grabbed his shotgun before hurriedly jogging the last couple of miles back to camp. I watched his quickly retreating figure nervously, still poised to jump off the bed of the truck and follow him. I shifted nervously, unsure what to do. I could feel the tension in my lower back creeping up on me, as I maintained my frozen position.

_Take me with you,_ I internally plead. 

“Any chance you won’t piss me off, doll?” It’d only been by poor chance that I’d had to ride in the same pickup as Negan— today of all days— after almost two months of being promoted to one of his Savior’s! And to think I’d done so well avoiding him up until this point. “I’m really not in the mood.”

“There’s a slight chance,” I relented, before hastily adding. “Its better if my mouth keeps busy, sir.”

I hadn’t meant for it to come out as a thinly veiled innuendo, but the damage had already been done. I now had Negan’s attention, his full attention. I could physically feel Negan’s gaze as his eyes roamed over me, appraising my body. I knew what he’d see— medium height, slight curves, and average sized breasts. Quite the opposite of his four wives.

I ached to fill the now uncomfortable silence, so I hopped off the bed of the truck, intent on not waiting around for Dwight. I popped the hood under Negan’s watchful gaze, not obtuse to the way his eyes fell on my ass when I reached into the drivers window to flip the switch.

“I’m going to look for the wrench,” I tried hard not to stutter, and I was proud of the way my voice sounded steady. “The boys down in the garage always hide extra tools under the hood, and something tells me that Dwight might forget one. You really lit a fire under his ass.” I chuckled nervously at my own joke, trying my hardest to keep my ramblings to a minimum. 

Without waiting for a response I moved to bend over the hood, pausing when Negan finally spoke. “How is it that I’ve never noticed you before?” He stepped closer. “Pretty thing like you is hard to miss…” He trailed off, and I assumed it was expected of me to fill the silence. 

“Well, that’s plain old me. I tend to fall between the cracks— always have,” My laugh sounded off, even to me. “I don’t know about pretty though, but I know my way around a biter or two. That’s how your men found me really— in the middle of a hoard of those dead fuckers.” 

_My hair, it’s also probably because of the hair._ I berated myself once again for my mistake.

I’d been in such a rush this morning, I’d forgotten to don my signature baseball cap. I usually tucked my long hair up under my cap, which gave me a more masculine appearance when paired with a baggy enough shirt. I preferred it that way. There were few women who got to be Savior’s, and I refused to fuck it up. I liked the added perks. 

Having your own room had it’s benefits, and I’d worked my ass off to be here. Before this I’d had to make my way up the ranks— prove myself so to speak. They’d stuck me in the garage where I’d spent a couple of weeks fixing cars before I’d been given the opportunity to ride  with Negan’s crew. Working in automotive had been an experience, and it was also how I knew all the survivor tricks that were utilized. 

“Your tough,” He observed. His hand brushed against my cheek in an effort to move the hair out of my face, as I bent over the hood of the car. I froze, holding perfectly still— almost as if a wasp had landed on my face. “It’s refreshing really, I prefer it actually. A woman who’s not afraid to speak their mind and could hold their own— who could really be by my side.”

_I don’t think so, buddy._ I knew what idea he was hinting at, but I refused to go down that path. Thinking fast, I changed the subject. 

“What,” I blew the hair that was falling into my eyes, as I tried to busy myself. “your wives too pretty to make it out here?”

“Are you?” He fisted the men’s flannel I wore so I was facing him, and unable to avoid eye contact. The intensity of the moment increased as I watched his dark eyes survey my physical reaction to his closeness. “Too pretty, I mean.”

I scrunched my eyebrows together in concentration, not fully comprehending what he was asking me. But then it came to me— one moment I was left standing in the dark, and the next it was like someone had turned a lightbulb on above my head.

I gulped taking a step back. “I’m not pretty,” I said, as I brushed my hair back nervously and hastily added. “I’m going to look under the seat, maybe they left some tools there.” I didn’t wait for his answer, and almost pried off the hinges of the drivers door trying to make my getaway. I should have known better. Bent over the driver’s seat, Negan saw his chance, and pounced. 

“I’d say you're very pretty, doll. Negan Jr. sure seems to think so,” Any chance at a response from me was highly unlikely— I could hardly breathe. I could feel his member hard and demanding against my ass. The feeling of his leather jacket pressed against the sliver of exposed skin between my jeans and shirt were also rendering me without function. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

I gulped. 

“It’s Nora, sir.” I said, before speaking hesitantly. “Lust and attraction are too different things, you're only saying this because—” I cleared my throat nervously. “we’re alone and you're bored.”

Silence.

“Is that so?” Negan spoke almost thoughtfully, and I began to wonder when I’d get to move from this position. My back was starting to hurt. “I don’t usually take kindly to people correcting me, but I could show you…”

“Show me,” I was almost too afraid to finish the sentence. “…what?” 

“Take off your top,” A strangled noise left my throat, and I wondered distantly where he’d put Lucille as his hands began to roam my body. “Don’t make me wait, gorgeous. Be a good girl for Negan, and let me see your beautiful body.”

A sharp tendril of lust began to form in my lower belly at his endearment, and unbeknownst to me— my hands began to work on auto pilot. I tentatively unbuttoned the baggy flannel, leaving me in nothing but the thin tank top, I usually wore underneath. 

“That’s it, gorgeous,” Negan coaxed me, and before I knew it I was fully bent over at the waist, my upper body firmly pressed against the leather seat of the vehicle. I shuddered feeling Negan’s erection digging into my ass more tightly, the idea of doing this out in the open where anyone could see strangely arousing me.

“This,” He reached between us to cup my ass. “is fucking spectacular, not too much and not too little, the perfect handful. I know for a fact that Dwight’s always staring at it when you bend over— _fucker_ — but it makes sense, just thought the man preferred dick.”

I gasped at the feeling, before bucking back hesitantly. I wasn’t sure when Negan had become so… uh, _caring_ … about how I perceived my self image. The feeling in my stomach became warmer, and I rubbed my legs together as best as I could with Negan’s body weight pressed against me.

“I need…” I wiggled my hips, urging him to do something— anything. “Umm, please?”

“What do you need, Nora?” His lips brushed my earlobe causing me to shiver. “Tell me what you need and I’ll do it, just for you. Do you know why?” I shook my head, trying but failing to clear it, and as a result Negan took it as my answer. “Because I see something in you that I like, I think you're a young girl who never got a chance to explore _this_.” He squeezed my left breast, his hands shimmying between my body and the leather seat. “It’s a shame I didn’t notice you before. Now, I’m going to ask you again— what do you want?”

“Touch me,” I spoke timidly, and it came out more like a question than a demand. 

But it must have been exactly what he was looking for, as his hands moved lower until they were brushing the waistband of my jeans. I gave an embarrassed shriek when without warning, he shoved them around my ankles leaving me vulnerable and immobile to his ministrations.

I could feel his warm breath on my bare ass as he crouched down— it was almost as hot as my face, which was flushed from the blush that was steadily coating a large area of my body. 

I hadn’t been wearing underwear this whole time.

“No underwear, gorgeous,” He nuzzled my right cheek, “and here I thought you were innocent and in need of a lesson or two.”

His words were teasing, but I still felt the need to explain.

“It’s laundry day, sir.”

“Well, remind me to thank whoever’s taking their time doing yours.” He reached up dipping a finger into the apex of my thighs. The sensation caused my breath to hitch, and I waited as he gathered the wetness before slowly pushing a finger into my dripping core.

I bucked my hips back encouraging him to continue, but he tutted— pausing his movements.

“First… you have to say that you're beautiful,” His lips playfully brushed against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh and I cried out when he bit the flesh there—hard. I could _feel_ the indentation from his teeth on my skin. 

“I’m beautiful?” The words tasted foreign on my tongue. But Negan was true to his word and rewarded me with his mouth. 

I watched with rapt attention, over my shoulder, as Negan— the almighty leader of the Savior’s and the Sanctuary— sunk fully to his knees before me, firmly pulling me onto his face. His tongue was warm and demanding, just like his hands, as they lapped at my clit before sliding upwards parting my sensitive folds. I bucked backwards, the feeling desirable as the coil pulled tighter in my stomach. He held both my thighs in a death grip, rendering me immobile, but there wasn't anywhere I’d rather be at this moment.  

“You like riding my face, gorgeous?” He questioned pulling back, his face was damp with my wetness and I had half a mind to respond.

I nodded my head, as he stared back at me with searing eyes before he continued his ministrations. His tongue enveloped me at an alarming rate, almost too intense, as my chest began to flush warmer— this time for a different reason. 

“Oh, Negan,” I gritted my teeth as he added another finger, it was only two but it was more then I’d ever have. “That feels good, keep going.” And I cried out louder when he indeed did. My teeth sunk into the leather upholstery in an attempt to muffle my moans, and it tasted vaguely of cigar smoke and sweat. I groaned louder, the combination of the leather and Negan’s unique aroma, both deeply intoxicating. 

“Enough of this,” His voice was gruff as he spoke, slapping my ass to get me to move forward. Negan stood up, and I gazed at him over my shoulder unsure what would happen next— something more, I hoped. He stood back observing my vulnerable position, and I gazed back, unsure.

“You are simply irresistible— that flat tire is probably the best thing that's happened to me all week.” I sensed a 'but' coming on, and I wasn't disappointed. “ _But_ , I want more. I’m a gentleman, Nora. I’ll only continue if you want me to, I can touch you in ways you've never imagined. Will you let me give you that, gorgeous?”

I nodded, I wasn’t sure where this was going but I knew I wanted to find out. He began to move again, but I couldn't see him, even with my neck craned all the way. 

“Good girl,” I preened at his compliment. I couldn’t see what he was doing but I could hear the rustling of clothing— my heart sped up at the possibilities. “another time I would have had that sweet mouth of yours wrapped around me,” He shuffled forward so that I could feel him— all of him pressed against me. He’d removed his signature leather jacket, and pushed his jeans down just enough to release himself.

“So why don’t you,” I gasped, as he began to rock himself against me. “have me, I mean?”

Negan’s laugh burst forward, hearty and robust, and I had to admit I was in the dark on what was so funny. “Gorgeous, if I were to have your sweet lips wrapped around my cock right now, I guarantee you Dwight would interrupt,” He bit my shoulder, and I hissed. “It’s been a while, and I’d say we have twenty minutes or so before he gets back.” He nuzzled the area, but it did nothing to soothe the sting, or the fire that was steadily growing between my legs. 

He slammed into me then, filling me almost painfully and without warning, as I scrambled to maintain purchase on the leather seat thoroughly taken off guard. He wasn't having any of it, and withdrew from me before positioning me against the side of the truck. I gripped the side of the vehicle, feeling vulnerable in the open air, as Negan positioned me to his liking before entering me again without another word.

I moaned deep in my throat, as my head dropped down to rest on my arms. It was an assault of too many sensations at once, and I could only hold on as Negan continued to slam into me. His hands gripping my waist tightly, and I knew then I wasn't going to escape unscathed. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” He spit out, its like he couldn’t get deep enough as he rotated hip hips— hitting all the nerve ends inside me, and I cried out as he hit a particular sensitive spot. His hands traveled to my bouncing breasts. “You're just the perfect fucking handful aren't you, gorgeous?”

I answered by moving my hips back to meet his, arching my chest into his demanding hands which pinched and rolled my nipples between his calloused fingers. The feeling made me shudder, as his index fingers rubbed against the pad of my peaked nipples. In his rush, my bra and shirt were roughly pulled down to expose my chest, and distantly I became aware that we were still partially dressed. 

Negan's hips moved against mine faster, in an almost punishing rhythm. He was definitely bigger than most and he used that to his advantage, tilting his hips up, and finding purchase on the running board of the truck so that he was hitting my fleshy g-spot.

“What’s happening?” I cried out in disbelief, as one of his hands descended to circle my clit— consequentially taking me off guard, as I exploded around him. My walls gripped him tightly, pulsating, as I cried out loudly. 

“Fuck, Nora,” His words were muffled as he spoke into the side of my neck. I held still, still basking in the aftermath of my orgasm and intrigued by the man still inside me. His pace became short and choppy as I felt him pulse within me and his hips still against mine. “Tell me again.”

“I’m beautiful.” I beamed, feeling his smirk against the side of my neck. 

Finally, he stepped back and I sunk to my knees, trying to regain my breath from the thorough fucking that Negan had indeed given me. From my position, I had a perfect view of the underbelly of the car— and the spare tire. Shock soon turned into a sense of sadistic irony— one that amused me too much, and before I could control it, I dissolved into a heap of giggles. 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave some kudos, and let me know what you think. Also check out my other stories!


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